Saturday, February 25

The greatest gift of all, its bigger than Jesus.

I meant for this to be the official one year happy anniversary sort of shit, and well, didn't happen.

Oh fuck yes.

This is, arguably, a fishing blog. Somehow, I've had more discussion in a week on a post about moustaches  than ever before, which is amazing to me. That post, however, started out as a fishing post.

This one doesn't.

I may or may not have been in an altered mood when I had a vision... a vision of a sandwich as handsome and powerful as any ever imagined before. It combined several basic ingredients, but did so in a way that made me feel I was onto something good.

Not that this is all mine, I actually owe the genesis of it to my father, a man who for years has epoused the power of peanut butter toast. That is whole wheat bread (healthy fucking assjacks) and creamy peanut butter. The official recipe called for Shoprite brand, IIRC, but I suppose any type of creamy should be.

The basic inspiration of PB toast is that the toast melts the peanut butter into the pores of the bread.

Simple, right? Right.

Turn the key; unlock the One True Sandwich.

I don't care for peanut butter. My PBJ sammichs contain an order of magnitude of more jelly. I don't put PB on much to be honest. I do, however, like Gnutella. I like it on bagels, and I realized one day that on a warm, toasted bagel, well just melts into the pores of the bread.

Well, shit.

So, you take peanut butter, and Gnutella, and toast, and you make a sandwich right? Like a goddamned Reese's Peanut Butter Cup.

But, wait...there's more.

A picture is worth a thousand words? Here's over 9000....

The recipe is just that simple. White bread is preferrable, but
run whatcha brung, right?

Any good tier knows to prep your materials before tying. 
Toast your bread.
A nice golden brown colour is desired.
Order is important! Peanut butter goes first. Why? Because
it cleans off the knife easiest. You wipe the knife between
spreads, right? Holy FUCK always do this, regardless of
what you're making. Don't fucking be my wife. Sweet Jesus!
Fucking peanut butter in my fucking jelly.
Jesus. Fuck.
Note used napkin and clean knife. Gnutella next! You do the
PB on one piece of toast, Gnutella the next. This is important
because these two spreads melt into the pores of their respec-
tive breads, united flavours with the bread.
Magic! A healthy dollop of marshmallow Fluff biggity
fucking bam. This binds the melty PB side to the melty
Gnutella side in a gloriously sweet, fluffy glue.
Wiping the Fluff knife only sticks pieces of bread to the knife.
Ick. Let it sit for a moment, the flavours are blending. Life is
gonna be awesome in five.....four....three....two..
Bon appetit!

Now, there is another level, one that has yet to be obtained. Its believed that the creation of these sandwiches can be augmented through the use of a campfire, some butter, and a set of mountain pie irons. I sadly regret to say this unproven as at the last drunken fishing meetup, our Sprawlmart sourced pie irons melted into the fire less than 10 seconds after being placed into the campfire.

These sandwiches may be attempted with bread on an open grill, but frankly, its not the same.

However, if you're drunk enough you won't notice.

The sandwich has been christened by others as the Grilled Babby Jebus, mostly because I am of the faith that this sammich is, frankly, more pleasurable than kissing Jesus. It has won over many converts.

I share it, now, with you.

Go forth and enjoy.

See how that shit works? Melts into one glorious glob of awesome. Fuck yeah, I could rape an entire stack of these.


  1. Would it upset Jebus if i tossed some frosted flakes into that mix?

  2. Or melt a twinkie in the center. And what of a decent side dish?? I must say a vintage Bourbon of Elijah Craig or some Finger Lakes Distillery McKenzie Rye Whisky would compliment this Jebus sammich

  3. Modifications of awesome are acceptable, but there's something to be said for the sublime simplicity. Its a trilogy of flavours, like all good religions, don't go mucking it up.

    Whatever beverage you choose to complement it, sweet fucking lord don't throw the bottle into the fire.

  4. Your avatar on the glass board made me hungry

  5. I sang the praises of this thing long and hard, to which I was thought to be over embellishing.

    We made low grade versions of these at JayJAM and they were declared to be all that.

    Have one. Do it. Sing the gospel of this sammich.

  6. Wow, until I saw the ingredients list, I thought you were some sort of weird fucker who put mayo and mustard on a peanut butter sammich. That'd be grounds for being beaten with a lead pipe by a man in a gimp mask and spandex tights.

    I'm not entirely on board with the marshmallow fluff - about the only thing I can tolerate that stuff in is fudge and rice crispy treats - but your creation is far, far more palatable than peanut butter, mayo, and mustard.

  7. Mayo is not fit for human consumption.

    I'm all for fluffernutters, but its not something I want more than once a decade..but this sammich?

    I would eat them for my last meal.

  8. Ive eaten pnut butter sammiches for pushing 70 years.

    I have eaten them with milk, water, beer, etc.

    At one point in my life, they were the greatest thing for the munchies.

    Fave recipe:

    Toasted raisin bread. (Safeway brand was best, but seems to be gone.)

    Natural pnut butter.

    Real butter. No grease, please.

    I like that no sugar added stromberry spread stuff, since I became diabetic, but honey is great. When I was a kid, it was homemade damson preserves.

    For a fave BLT, which has no L:

    Toast 2 slices of good sourdough bread. Rub them with a clove of garlic. then with a cherry mater, and a bit of mayo. Add a slice of fresh garden mater and some fresh chopped basil. Eat 2.